Chronicles from a Second Earth
by AliaAtreidesBr
Summary: A few scenes from Bruce Wayne/Batman and Selina Kyle/Catwoman lives in the Earth 2 universe. Chapter 9: Selina finds out what the battle against Killer Croc has done to her.
1. Chapter 1

She woke up to him lying next to her on bed, his hand running over her waist and finally resting on her stomach.

"Don't tell me it's morning already", she commented, her voice still drowsy from sleep, her eyes still closed.

"It is", he spoke softly, his face already buried in her hair, his breath a gentle stroke on the back of her neck. "Go back to sleep."

He placed a light kiss on her shoulder and pulled her closer to him, her back against his chest.

"Bruce…", she muttered, "c'mon…"

"What…?" His inertness and his hoarse tone showed he was on the verge of falling asleep already.

"I've to get up."

"Why?" He kissed her again.

"Because…" She turned over under the sheets to face him. There he was: eyes shut, his hair still damp from the shower, a brand new laceration that crossed his upper and lower lips. "Bruce…! Oh, my God… look at this…!"

She touched the wound with a finger, carefully tracing its path. He flinched under her stroke, raising his hand to place it over hers and pull it to his bare chest.

"You need stitches, handsome… I'll get the medical kit."

"Don't." He had opened his eyes now - tired, drowsy eyes - but didn't let go of her hand. "Stay here for a minute."

She smiled, caressing his unshaved face. "Silly. We've to do _something_ about this ugly gash… how am I going to kiss you if it doesn't heal properly?"

The sore lips only allowed him a half-smile in response. "Damn. I should have been harder on the Riddler… and taken that stupid staff from his hands sooner."

"Yeah, you should…", she laughed. Then, she assumed a graver expression. "You should _always _be careful. Always. Specially if I'm not with you out there."

"I take good care of myself, Selina." He held a lock of her dark hair between his fingers, gently wrapping it around his knuckles. "Besides, you're always with me. And will always be."

"Well", she sighed, "I wasn't tonight."

"Because you were not feeling well... by the way, how _are_ you feeling? Better?" He frowned, showing his concern.

"I think so." Her eyes evaded his gaze. "I've an appointment at the doctor later today, actually."

"You do?" He seemed alarmed. "Why…? Is there… is there something _wrong_?"

"No", she quickly answered. "No, nothing wrong. Just… just a precaution."

"Selina." He sat on the bed. She followed him, immediately climbing to his lap and allowing him to embrace her body. He clung to her, apprehension in his tone as he spoke:

"What are you not telling me?"

She didn't say anything for a moment. Their faces close together, she locked her eyes on his, placing both hands on the sides of his head. Then:

"Listen to me. Listen carefully…" She had his full attention. He held his breath in anticipation, confused and worried.

"Tell me", he whispered.

"I'm pregnant", she whispered back. Now _she_ was the one apprehensive, anxiously trying to read a reaction on his features.

"You are?" His voice came out gruffly, the words tumbling on his wounded lips.

She nodded to confirm, a lump on her throat not allowing any sounds to pass.

"Selina…" He pulled her to him eagerly, his face pressed against her cheek, tears blurring his vision. "Oh, Selina… that's… that's…"

"Good news?" She said while moving back a few inches to look at him, her own eyes teary.

"Wonderful news…!" Now he smiled broadly, and he leaned to give her a tender, long kiss.

"Your cut…", she said, their mouths barely breaking contact.

"It's fine", he muttered, gently placing her on bed under him. "It's all fine… it's all…" He kissed her again. "… wonderful."

She chuckled, allowing him to slip her nightgown off and kiss her naked body, all the way down to her stomach. There he stopped, staring at her pale skin for a moment, his fingers caressing her softly. "I love you, Selina", he said, looking up to stare at her.

"I love you too, Bruce." She tangled her fingers in his dark hair, trying to keep that image to her: the most sincere, passionate, vulnerable moment she had ever witnessed from him. "Always."

"Always", he echoed, finally loosing himself in her.


	2. Chapter 2

The contractions started in the afternoon; Bruce worried:

"Do you think it's time already?"

"I think it's too soon", she said, placing a hand over her belly. Her due day was still almost four weeks away. "It's probably just Braxton-Hicks contractions."

"I read about that; Braxton-Hicks are mostly painless, and not so close apart…"

"Shush", she said, kissing him lightly. "It's okay… I'll be fine. And if things change…"

"… you'll have Alfred call me immediately. _Immediately_, hear me?"

She smiled. "I'm in good hands, handsome." She looked down to her stomach. "We both are."

He caressed her belly gently, feeling the movements of their unborn child. "Behave, little one…", he said. "Wait for me, okay?"

"We will." She placed her arms around his neck and kissed him goodbye. Then, while he still held her, she asked softly:

"So… boy or girl?"

He laughed. "Hm, let me think… Tonight I'll say girl. As usual."

"You seem mighty sure of yourself…"

"I'm right." He moved a lock of dark hair from her face to behind her ear, then softly caressing her neck and cheek with the back of his fingers. "You'll see."

Selina saw him leave their bedroom to go down to the cave: night had come, and it was time for Batman to go on patrol. She used to love that time of the day: in the past, before the baby, it was _their_ thing. She would go with him, and they would talk about work and get dressed, then plan the nights' patrol. They were a team back then – she wondered how long it would take for her to be out there with him again. If ever, that was.

She rested for a couple hours on their bed, but contractions didn't let her get any sleep. They weren't particularly painful at first: mostly just an annoyance, and that, combined with the kicks and turns of the baby, was enough to keep her from sleeping.

It was just before ten when she felt that those contractions could actually be the real thing: they were getting closer apart and lasting longer. Still, there wasn't much pain; she figured there was no point in bothering Bruce just yet – he would worry and run home, all for something that could last for hours and hours, if it was even the actual labor what she was experimenting.

There was no harm in calling Leslie, though, Selina thought. She was her doctor and the one that would deliver the baby, as they had already settled. For a number of reasons she and Bruce had decided it would be safer to have a home birth; they didn't want to attract attention to their child, and valued their privacy – something Bruce Wayne's child wouldn't have, even in a private hospital. Besides, the medical equipment in the cave was probably better than what could be found in any hospitals, with the possible exception of emergency care for the baby. If that was necessary, though, Bruce had a few contingency plans to move them fast to the nearest hospital.

_It's going to be fine_, she was constantly telling him. He was always the one that would worry, that would try to predict everything and never be caught unprepared. Now, as she was for the first time dealing with the possibility that this was actually _happening_, that their baby could be really on the way… now she was also scared.

_Calm down_, she told herself. There was no reason to panic. She decided to go downstairs and look for Alfred, thinking she could at least ask his opinion as a doctor. As she rose from the bed, though, she felt a strong, painful contraction take hold of her body.

She refrained herself from yelling, trying to remember what she had read and learned: breathe, always breathe, don't focus in the pain, don't fight the contraction – embrace it. There was pain, discomfort, but there was no place for fear. She was not sick, hurt, in danger… this was merely her child making its way into the world.

"Mrs. Wayne", she heard Alfred speaking from the door. "Are you feeling alright?"

Selina was standing by the bed, both hands on the mattress helping support her body as she swayed her hips. She didn't answer him right away, waiting for the contraction to slowly reduce its intensity. Finally, when she again felt able to speak, she turned to face the butler:

"I'm okay, Alfred…" She took a deep breath and, running a hand over her own forehead, she realized she was sweating. "I'm having contractions… pretty strong ones. I think…"

"It's time", he solemnly declared. "I'll call Master Bruce."

"No", Selina said, a hand gesture urging him to halt before even moving from the entrance of the bedroom. "No, wait. Call Leslie… call Leslie first."

"Master Bruce has made me promise…"

"I know, Alfred. I know. But I don't want him to be alarmed, I don't want him to be careless… if you call him, it will disturb him."

"The longer we wait, more anxious and worried he will be."

Selina felt tears reaching her eyes. "Please, Alfred… Don't… don't call him. Not just yet…"

"Mrs. Wayne…!" Alfred approached, his features denouncing his confusion and apprehension.

"It's okay, Alfred." Another contraction started, and Selina surrender to it by seating on her bed and holding her stomach. "I just don't want… I don't want Bruce to… to see me like… this. Not yet."

The butler heard her statement in silence, watching Selina with uneasiness. As she struggled to breathe through the contractions, he took the phone on the night stand and dialed Leslie Thompkins number.


	3. Chapter 3

He had waited for the call the whole night, but it didn't come.

_Guess Selina was right, _he wondered. That wasn't the night he would become a father, not just yet.

As he parked the car in the cave, he felt no urgency. It was still a quarter to five – he had arrived earlier than he used to from patrol, and for good reason: an arsonist that called himself Firefly had attacked a hospital, of all places, and Batman had spend most of the night helping rescue people and important equipment from the building. Not to mention capturing Firefly, something he had accomplished not an hour before. That had been a productive and successful night, all considered… but had also brought its unpleasant consequences, no doubt. For example, a series of superficial, though considerably painful burning wounds.

Nothing too serious, Batman was grateful to notice while removing his ruined uniform, but at least two distinct burns in his right arm that needed tending. And it wouldn't be too much if Alfred could also do something to attenuate the marks on his neck and face: Selina would certainly worry if she saw them as they were right now. And, of course, he wouldn't want to upset her at that particular moment of their lives.

He changed into regular clothes and returned to the main hall of the cave, planning to call for Alfred and have him treat his wounds down there, preferably without attracting Selina's attention. However, he entered the room to find out that the butler was already there, collecting items from the medical dock.

"Alfred", he greeted, surprised to see that he had startled Alfred by calling him. Bruce had already assumed, in fact, that the butler was preparing himself while waiting for him to come out of the changing cabin.

"Good night, sir", Alfred answered, then silencing abruptly. That was unusual for him: he often had questions, at least sarcastic remarks, to receive Bruce with.

"What's the matter, Alfred?" He had no doubt there was something odd happening. And as he glanced at the instruments the butler had already collected and placed on a tray – scissors, gauze, suture lines and needles -, he instantly realized what was going on. "Selina…? Is she?"

Alfred nodded.

Bruce needed nothing else; he immediately turned to the stairs and made his way up to the mansion in seconds, ignoring the butler's plea for him to wait. He ran the whole way up until he reached the bedroom's door, where he found Leslie Thompkins, Selina's doctor, standing with both arms crossed.

"Leslie." He took a moment to regain his breath. The physical effort of climbing two sets of stairs was minimal to someone like him, trained to reach the peak of human's resistance, but the situation was an extraordinary one, enough to rob him of air.

"Bruce", she said, a grave expression on her features.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, things are going as they should, at this point. The baby is fine, but Selina…"

He pressed his lips and held his breath, feeling the heavy weight of panic in his chest. "Tell me", he asked, his voice a dry, husky sound.

"She's really scared, Bruce." Leslie placed both hands on Bruce's arms, gently stroking his biceps. She had blue eyes, clear and deep, like the summer sky; through the years he had learned to trust them, trust her, the woman that had once been his father's friend and that had always tried to be there for him, much as Alfred had. Now, in a gesture that evoked memories from his childhood, she again asked for his attention and trust – he did his best to comply. "She's going to need you now."

"Why…? Scared of what? Why…?"

"It can be a scary thing, the delivery. It's not like anything she has experienced before, Bruce – or you, for that matter. Not to mention the fact that Selina is about to become a _mother_, Bruce…"

"I know, Leslie. I know all this, I…"

"No, you don't, Bruce." She stared at him austerely. "It doesn't matter how much you've studied and prepared yourself for this, you _don't_ know. And don't you try to look like you do… this will not help Selina."

"You said she's scared."

"Most of all, she's afraid of you."

He frowned.

"Don't look at me like that, kid. _You_ are the one that has to be high and mighty Batman, the man that never makes mistakes or shows weakness… can you really blame your wife for being ashamed of her vulnerability?"

He took a deep breath. "Is that why you didn't call me sooner?"

"That would be my fault, Master Bruce", Alfred said behind him, arriving with the things no doubt Leslie asked for. "I promised Mrs. Wayne I would only call you when she gave me her permission…"

"… and she never did." Bruce finished the butler's sentence. "My God, does Selina honestly believe I would think less of her if…"

A scream came from inside the bedroom, a sharp sound that cut through their conversation with violence.

"Selina", he recognized, immediately reaching for the doorknob. Leslie held him by his shoulder:

"Bruce… remember: she's just _scared_. She needs the support of the man she loves, not of Batman."

He nodded, unwilling to extend a conversation that was now only keeping him from consoling his wife. Entering the room abruptly, he expected to find Selina on the bed, but caught a glimpse of her on the corner of his eye – she was inside the bathtub in the bathroom, moaning in pain.

"I'm here", he said as he kneeled next to her, placing both his hands on the arm she had on the edge of the tub.

"Bruce", she said in a shallow voice. Her hair was tied, just a few dark locks sticking to her cheeks and neck, her face reddish and sweat, her eyes wide and scared. He thought that Leslie was right, he indeed had never seen Selina like that… but she was wrong if she thought he would in any way think less of her right now. As far as he was concerned, Selina had never looked so lovely.

"My love", he whispered close to her ear. In response, she embraced his neck with both arms, sobs coming uncontrollably and shaking her body.

"Oh, Bruce… I'm… I'm sorry…!"

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about."

"But there is", she said nervously, letting go of his neck to look at his face. "Bruce, I… I don't think I can do this…! I can't. I just can't…"

"Hey, hey…!" He caressed her face and held up her chin, forcing her teary eyes on his. "Listen to me… You _can_ do this. You can do _anything_."

Another contraction came, and Selina didn't refrain herself from screaming. She contorted her body inside the water, legs clenched and arms tense, her fingers grasping Bruce's shoulder and nails burying in his flesh.

He just held her close, surprised to see his wife in such agony. In their days as crime-fighters he had seen Selina suffer all kinds of wounds and pains, and he had never seen her surrender to it. Still, it was like Leslie said: that was more than just pain.

Bruce held her through the contraction, trying to console her with words and his touch. Gradually, she calmed down in his arms. He said nothing, though, merely kissing her forehead and holding her close to his chest. After a moment, he asked:

"Do you want me to get inside the bathtub with you?"

She nodded in agreement. He let go of her to stand and undress himself, keeping only his underwear. He then entered the tub, placing himself behind Selina and allowing her to rest her naked back against his chest. Her head was on his right shoulder, and he slid both his arms under hers, their hands clasped together, fingers tangled, their bodies so close that was difficult to tell were one started and the other ended – wasn't that how they had lived together all these years?

"I'm so sorry, Bruce…", she whispered. "So sorry to disappoint you…"

He brushed his lips on the soft skin of her cheek, kissing her face, neck, collarbone.

"Selina… don't be silly. I think you are the bravest, strongest person I've ever known." He embraced her. "And I know you're going to be a great mother."

She didn't answer: another contraction came. Now, however, he kept his arms around her and soothed her the best he could, whispering words of encouragement and helping her get hold of her breathing rhythm.

As soon as Selina relaxed, leaning on his chest, they heard Leslie's kind voice:

"Hello", she greeted, speaking softly. "May I come in?"

Selina answered. "Sure, Leslie… Is it time to check me again?" Her tone denounced her dismay.

"Yes, my dear, I'm afraid it is." Smiling, Leslie approached the bathtub. "But we might have some good news now. Feeling any pressure?"

"Lots of pressure… all the time."

"That's a good sign", said the doctor, putting on some gloves. "Now, just try and relax…"

Bruce felt Selina's fingers pressing his hand tightly as Leslie examined her, hiding her face and muffling her moans against his arm.

"Just as I thought", it was Leslie. "You're now fully dilated, and the baby is lower… I think…"

"It's time?" Bruce couldn't hold his tongue.

"Yes", the doctor agreed. "Time to push."

Selina took a deep breath, preparing for another contraction. "Ready to be a dad?", she managed to ask.

"Oh, yes", he spoke close to her ear. "Like I've never been before…"

"Because you do want this, right…?"

"Like I've never wanted anything else in my life", he reassured her.

And that was all true: for the first time since forever, he embraced the unknown.


	4. Chapter 4

It was all so blurry and unclear in her mind.

She knew there was pain. Pain, and sweat, and her cries, and all the effort, so much effort, and Leslie's voice…

"C'mon, Selina", she would say, "just another push. Just one more push…"

She had said that so many times…

And there was Bruce, Bruce by her side, Bruce holding her, and encouraging her, and telling her that she could do it, that she was almost there, that it was almost over…

"Our baby is coming…", he spoke softly by her ear, "she's almost here…"

He would call the baby _her_; always her. He was so sure it would be a girl.

But Selina, she wasn't sure about anything, not then. She just knew she had to push, and she felt it, the child, she felt it coming out of her inch by inch, that little thing, a brand new human being that was born into the water without a cry or sound, that tiny creature that Leslie suddenly showed her and placed on her breast, its warm, incredibly soft skin on her chest.

"Bruce", she had called, her hoarse, crumbling voice as she looked down to those amazing little eyes, opening for the first time in this world.

Bruce… but Bruce wasn't there. She turned to look at him, and he gazed at the baby in wonder, completely lost in those features, marveled at the sight of his own child… "It _is_ a girl…", Selina whispered, but not even that mattered anymore. _She_ mattered, their _daughter_, and Selina couldn't believe she had such a precious thing in her arms. And Bruce had his eyes teary, raising a hand to touch the baby, feel her little feet and count her toes, stroke her back and caress her tiny, dark haired head. And look at her eyes – ah, her eyes… the deep blue of those eyes.

Then Leslie came, and she spoke again, something Selina didn't register; her whole world laid there, the baby over her chest, the man supporting her back – what else could make a difference?

But there were things to be done, and the baby had to be examined, and she had to be tended. So Alfred came, but Selina couldn't let go of her, not so fast, not so easily, not before she could stare at that little face for hours and hours, and knew it by heart…

"I'll bring her right back", Alfred reassured.

She gave her to Bruce. She placed their daughter in his arms, and he took her with so much care, his face so anxious and his gaze mesmerized, and Selina knew: he had been taken. He was captivated; he was forever a prisoner of that little girl. He was no longer hers to own, her husband and lover… he was first a father. The father of her child, a man whose happiness was connected to that baby's happiness, a man that would never again know peace unless he was like that: holding her in his arms.

And she knew the feeling all too well…

Tears came. As she watched Bruce as a father, as he kissed the baby's forehead so lightly, as he soothed the crying child and spoke to her in his gentlest, sweetest tone. And she smiled, hoping, wishing that time would stop right then, and they could forever be like that, their little family of three, so complete and full of joy.

Bruce brought the baby back when Selina had already made her way to their bed. He placed the baby girl in her arms and laid on the mattress next to her.

"Happy?", she asked.

He kissed her on the lips. "You", he whispered, "are my world."

She smiled and again looked at her child. "She looks just like you… our baby girl."

"Our _beautiful_ baby girl." He caressed the tiny hand, her diminutive fingers suddenly grasping tightly his thumb. "Strong. Healthy. Perfect little girl."

"_Nameless_ little girl…" Selina chuckled.

They glanced at each other for a moment. And then, he just declared:

"Helena."

"Helena?" She studied her daughter's features, trying to get used to the name. For some reason, it fit perfectly. "So Helena it is."


	5. Chapter 5

Selina woke up to a buzzing sound.

Her mind tried to make sense of it: not the alarm clock, not the phone, not the baby crying… and her heart skipped a beat.

_Bruce_.

It was the cave's alarm. The one he never used. The one that was just for emergencies, _real_ emergencies, that he would use only in the most desperate situation… The one he had never, _never _used.

She jumped off the bed, quickly collecting her robe and putting on her slippers. She then turned to the bassinet that was placed next to the bed, finding Helena still sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by the buzzing alarm that sounded inside the room. The little girl really was a blessing: a good sleeper since day one, and a cheerful, serene baby that would rarely cry. Now, twelve weeks after her birth, she was a smiling, adorable infant that already reached her arms towards her parents and screeched in joy every night when she saw Bruce getting home from patrols.

Selina thought of calling Alfred, only to remember that he wasn't at the Manor. It was Thursday night, the night he would help Leslie Thompkins at her East End clinic by doing voluntary work as a doctor. Of course: ordinarily, Alfred would already be at the cave with Bruce, helping with whatever was the problem and probably hiding it from her. She would be furious, if not for this: Alfred _was_ a great doctor, and Bruce couldn't be in better hands.

Hands that weren't there to help now.

Without hesitating, she took Helena from the bassinet, blankets and all, and carried her out of the room. She could have let the baby in the room and brought the baby monitor, but truth was she had no idea of what expected her down there. What if, she considered, they were in danger? What if someone tried to enter the house? No, she couldn't leave Helena by herself, baby monitors or not; she couldn't bear the thought of something happening to her baby girl, especially if Bruce… if Bruce…

She raced down the stairs as fast as she could, her hands trembling as she pressed the piano keys to reveal the cave's entrance. Going through the passage, she noticed that all lights were on, something that would automatically happen only when Batman entered the cave. However, the first thing she noticed was that his car wasn't there; a moment of panic froze her stomach, her heart pounding against her chest frantically as she wondered _where_ her husband could be, what had happened to him, _why_, why he had sounded the alarm…

"Over here", she heard someone call, a musical, beautiful voice.

She searched for the source of the sound, finding it at the medical bay - there she was, in all her beauty and greatness: Wonder Woman.

And she wasn't alone; next to her was Superman, red cape and all, arms crossed and his feet floating about an inch from the floor. Both stared at her now, watching her quietly as she approached. _Of course_, Selina realized, _they sounded the alarm. Not Bruce._ He wouldn't do that; he wouldn't sound the alarm because, well, he couldn't.

Both Superman and Wonder Woman were partially blocking her vision of the gurney behind them, but she didn't need to see much to know what was going on. There was Bruce: laying on the cold steel table, immobile, dark spots of dry blood tainting his uniform. _Oh, no, _was all she could think, and she mumbled those words as she held Helena close to her breast, clenching at the little girl in anxiety.

Superman had the good sense of saying something:

"He _is_ alive", he declared, reaching to grab Selina's shoulder and help her get to her husband.

"Yes", Wonder Woman reassured. She wasn't as sensible as he was, though. "He _barely _made it, but he's alright now."

Selina noticed how Superman frowned in disapproval at the Amazon, but she paid little attention to that. She was next to Bruce now, who laid unconscious on the gurney in a pitiful state: his clothes were torn in so many places, and he was dirty and bruised, superficial scratches and wounds in several places of his body. His mask had been removed, revealing a dark bruise on his left temper and a cut on the same side of his face that was deep and vicious – a few millimeters to the left and it would have cost him the eye. There was dry blood near the entrance of both his ears, and Selina hoped it was from injuries to his ear canal, and not his brain.

There was no worst visible wound, though, than the one in his leg: an awful cut that crossed his leg from one side to the other, an inch above his right knee. His pants were horribly torn and bloody, but the wound itself was closed: a burned scar that was almost as wide as Selina's index finger. She examined it by leaning ahead, unable to touch Bruce as she held Helena in her arms. The baby didn't cry, but she was uncomfortable enough to squirm and whine, even if close to her mother's body.

"Shush, Helena, shush…" She rocked the child back and forth, trying at the same time hide her tears from the visitors. "It's okay, baby girl, it's alright…"

Superman again placed a hand over her shoulder, gently tapping her back. "He's going to be fine, Selina."

She didn't look up to him, not wanting them to see her teary, red eyes, but she nodded. The fact that he had called her by her first name didn't bother her also; they had met before in a handful of occasions, and she was always wearing her Catwoman mask, but she figured he knew who she was at least since she married Bruce. Besides, he was one of Bruce's closest, if not only friend. No doubt he would have mentioned her to Superman on first name basis.

"We were caught in an explosion", Wonder Woman explained. "Superman and I were fine, but Batman…"

"He fell." It was the Man of Steel cutting in again, probably worried by the straightforward, almost cold tone Wonder Woman used. "His back took a terrible hit, and his leg was badly injured."

"It was almost cut off", again the woman bluntly declared.

"Diana!" Superman voiced his censure in a harsh tone. The reprimand was effective, though; Wonder Woman lowered her glance to her own boots and sighed.

"I… I'm sorry. I just wanted to be precise with all the information. But maybe Kal is right; maybe that's not what you need right now."

Tears burst from Selina's eyes, coming down her face in thick trails. "I _hate_ this! Just hate seeing him like this, knowing I could have been there to help him…!"

"Don't", Superman kindly said. "There was nothing you or anyone else could have done…"

"Besides", it was Wonder Woman offering words of console, "he's going to be fine." She pointed at the wound in Batman's leg. "Superman cauterized the vessels and muscles in his leg, even the nerves."

"I expect him to make a full recovery", he stated, much like a professional surgeon. "The fall caused a vertebra in his back to get slightly out of place, but Wonder Woman took care of that."

"And there was no damage to the spinal cord. Kal examined him with his X-ray vision."

Selina realized that all those things they were saying were supposed to make her feel better, but that certainly wasn't how she felt. To see Bruce like that… she felt helpless and scared, knowing that there was little she could do for him, if anything at all.

Helena joined her sobs, crying loudly and uninterruptedly.

"Is she okay?" It was Wonder Woman asking, glancing uncomfortably at the baby.

"Yeah, yeah, I… I think so…" Selina tried to regain her coolness, holding back her tears and running a hand over her cheeks to dry them. "She senses that… that something is wrong. I mean, my heart is racing wildly, and this cave… it's just too cold for her."

"You're right, it _is_ too cold down here", Superman agreed. "Here, let me hold her…"

Selina wasn't so sure about giving Helena to someone else carries, but she pondered that perhaps her arms also weren't the safest place for her either: she was feeling a little lightheaded and was definitely shaken. So, as Superman stretched his arms towards her, Selina gently placed her daughter there.

"Hello, Helena…!" He spoke softly while bringing the small baby close to his large, broad chest. "You are a beautiful baby girl, aren't you? Your father is always bragging about you, how gorgeous and bright you are… and he's right, isn't he? Yes, yes he is…"

To Selina's surprise, Helena had stopped crying, and now watched attentively Superman's face.

"Oh, Kal", Wonder Woman said with a smile, "I had no idea you were such a talented nanny."

He chuckled. "What can I say, Diana? I like babies, and they like me…" He wrapped the blankets around Helena, carefully shifting her from one arm to the other. "Besides, I'm a few degrees warmer than regular people; very convenient right now."

Knowing her daughter was safe, Selina took a moment to caress her husband's unshaved face. "Why is he unconscious?"

"Oh", Wonder Woman said, her eyes staring at nothing in particular, lost in some deep contemplation. "Yes, we did that."

"What do you mean?"

"You know him better than I do", she stated. "You can imagine the hard time he gave us when we wanted to bring him home instead of chasing the people responsible for the attack."

Selina laughed. "Yeah, that's Bruce…"

"It's unbelievable. Honestly, I swear he would just get up and follow us if we didn't drug him."

"He would", Selina agreed. "No doubt he would."

She ran her fingers through his hair, touched his forehead. It was cold, but not to the point she would worry; he was slightly pale, but there was a flush of color in his complexion, and his breathe was steady and strong. She was beginning to really believe them: Bruce would be fine.

"I'll call Alfred", she declared. "I'll ask him to come. Bruce might need plasma, even a blood transfusion…"

"That's a good idea", Superman commented, baby Helena almost falling asleep in his arms. "And we should go, Diana. Maybe if we can capture the people who did that before morning, Bruce can forgive us for drugging him."

Wonder Woman nodded in agreement, preparing herself to fly away.

"Here." Superman returned a quiet, peaceful Helena to Selina. "She is a precious thing", he whispered. "I'm glad I could finally meet her."

Selina smiled faintly – yes, it was nice Superman could come over and held her baby… except her husband had to almost die for that to happen.

What a strange world they lived in.

She watched as Superman and Wonder Woman left, gone as abruptly as they had arrived. She embraced her daughter and held her close to her face for a moment, taking in her adorable scent and feeling the delicate thorax move slightly at every breathe. Life really was that fragile, wasn't it? One moment you had it all, and then…

_No_. _No, he's not gone. He's here. We're here. _

She placed a chair near her husband, and sat there to wait for him. The words of the wedding vows came to mind:

"…_in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health…"_

"And I'll love you every day of my life", she remembered telling him then, "until death do us part."

It had seemed romantic back then. Now, she wasn't so sure; now, it sounded like a bitter truth, like death was just around the corner, just waiting for another chance to make those words true.

And Selina just couldn't let that happen.


	6. Chapter 6

It was just a moment. A single second, no more.

Helena's baby steps were so clumsy and adorable, marching feet that would gain speed and resolve as she walked, a broad smile lighting up her soft, beautiful face…

She fell.

She had fallen before. Not uncommon. As Selina watched her, as Alfred watched her. Never when _he _was watching her.

She tumbled over a toy, a misplaced, quick maneuver. He was next to her before she could even cry, before she lifted her little head…

He saw the blood.

His trained eyes found it: the hard, sharp corner on a chair, Helena grazing her forehead and… and…

Blood.

For a moment she turned to look at him, still silent, a confused, scared expression in her eyes. What did she see in his face? Fear? Panic? Guilt?

She cried. With all her might, from the top of her lungs, she cried.

"What happened?" Selina had come to the playroom's door, eyes widened in dread. "Bruce? Bruce? What happened…?"

He didn't answer. He too wanted to know. What happened? What had he let happen to her, to his daughter, to his baby girl…?

His arms around her, he searched for the source of the blood. It ran over her chubby cheeks, coming down from her hairline and soaking her jumper. A deep cut, ugly, though short in length. Too close to her temple to ease his fears in any way.

"Oh, my God…!" Selina covered her mouth in shock, tears coming to her eyes. "Is she okay?"

He couldn't speak. He couldn't. No words would come, no questions were registered in his brain, no answers were produced. He was blind, blind to all but his daughter screaming and writhing in his arms, bleeding all over his shirt.

_Alfred_, he thought, wanting to call for the butler, wanting to comfort Helena, wanting to tell Selina everything would be fine. He went down stairs instead, meeting Alfred half-way to the living room.

"Sir", was all he said, immediately dropping the book he was carrying and going to the baby girl.

Selina was there also. "Her head", she moaned, but she had a towel with her, and she pressed it with resolve over the wound on Helena's head. Bruce accepted that, replacing Selina's hand on the baby's forehead and sheltering the little girl on his chest.

"To the cave", Alfred instructed. To the cave, where the medical equipment was.

Soon he was holding Helena down on the metal gurney, the girl mumbling her "dada, dada" that used to melt his heart from joy… not now. Now her words were a plea, a knife in his guts, he looking away from her teary blue eyes so he would not falter in his task. His ungrateful, hideous task of keeping her from moving as Alfred stitched her wound and Selina tried to console her, kissing her cheeks and whispering, whispering as she kept her own eyes closed:

"It's okay, baby girl, it's okay… It's gonna be okay… mommy and daddy are here, and it will be okay…"

He wished it to be over soon – _please, just don't hurt her anymore…please… please…_

* * *

Selina came to bed and rested her head on his chest.

"She's fine, Bruce."

He nodded. In silence.

"It wasn't your fault."

He nodded again.

"You know that, don't you? Kids fall and get hurt, there isn't much you can do to help it."

She was right. He knew she was. But it didn't make it any less scary or painful, it didn't make him feel any better.

And he would never forgive himself, just the same.


	7. Chapter 7

He was already on his way to the car when he saw her: fully dressed in her Catwoman outfit, seating on the edge of the hood, arms crossed over her chest.

"Why are you dressed?" He asked, struggling to keep his voice stable and unemotional.

"I can't fight crime naked, don't you think?"

He acted like he hadn't heard her sarcastic remark. "See you in a few hours", he said.

"We _talked_ about this", she reminded him.

"And you obviously didn't listen to me."

He was also in his Batman uniform, his impatience beginning to show in his tone.

"I _did_ listen, Bruce", she bitterly stated, "I just didn't _agree_ with you, okay?"

He shook his head in dismay:

"No, Selina, no! This cannot… this _won't_ happen. I'll not have it!"

"Bruce", she shouted. "This is not your choice to make…!"

"Maybe not." He took the few steps that were between them, gloved hands reaching for her face and holding it to face him. "But I can't risk it, Selina, I can't…"

"I'll be fine, Bruce." She held his wrists and pressed them with her fingers, then pulling his masked forehead to touch hers. "Listen… you can't do it alone… all by yourself, every single night…"

"Of course I can", he whispered, embracing her close to his chest. "I've done it for so long. And I can keep doing it."

"No. No, you can't." She freed herself from his arms, again putting distance between them. She stared at him in a grave expression, her goggles pulled up above her face, revealing her deep green eyes. "And _I_ can't. Live like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Every night… waiting for you. Unable to sleep. Unable to keep myself from wondering where you are, who you're up against, and if you… if you…"

"I won't", he reassured her. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to happen."

"Can you promise it? Is that even a promise you can keep?" She pressed her lips together in a tense, thin line, frowning in disbelief. "Bruce… in this job of ours… There's no guarantees."

"I know", he agreed. "I know, and _you_ know it. That's why… I can't let you do this."

She shook her head in her typical stubbornness. "_Not_ your choice, my love." She raised a finger almost to his face. "If I want to do this, there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He sighed. She ignored his silent protest:

"You are the only father my daughter has; I'll be in my grave before I let you risk yourself alone in those streets and die because of it."

"And you are her only _mother_, Selina." His tone was sterner than usual. "How about that?"

"We are a _team_, Bruce", she insisted.

"No, Selina, we are all Helena _has_!"

"I know this…! That's why…"

"Please!" He interrupted her by speaking in uncharacteristic impatience – he rarely used that tone with her, if ever. "Please, Selina, _think_…! If _I_ die… okay, if I die, Helena will have lost her father, and it will be a tremendous blow… but she would still have you. Her mother."

She again had her arms crossed over her chest, but she muttered her next phrase forcing words through her constrict throat:

"You can't be serious, Bruce. You can't be honestly looking at it in a _rational_ way…!"

"Tell me, Selina", he whispered, "don't you ever wonder what your life would be like if at least _one_ of your parents had not died?"

"No, Bruce. I don't."

"I do", he admitted. "All the time, especially after Helena. If my mother hadn't died…"

He didn't finish the sentence, eyes on the ground, jaw tense.

"She needs us both, Bruce."

"But what she doesn't need", he replied, "is to _lose_ us both."

Slowly, she walked to him. Then, very gently, she raised her arms to enlace her neck. "If I'm there to help you…"

"I will just worry more."

Against his chest, she let air out of her lungs in a gesture that denounced her tiredness. "Please, Bruce. Please. I can't keep having this conversation."

"Then stay here", he asked. "Be with our daughter."

She looked up to stare at him. "She adores you, you know? Helena. She's crazy about you… honestly, it even makes me a little jealous sometimes, the way she looks at you in such adoration…."

He chuckled.

"Don't laugh!" She playfully pinched him below his ribs. "I'm being serious here…! If something happens to you…"

"It won't."

"All I'm saying is, I think she would have better chances if she lost me, not you."

"That's an awful thing to say."

"But it's the truth, nonetheless." Again she rested her head on him. "I know she's just one year-old, but when do you think we could start training her?"

"Train her?!" His voice denounced his outrage. "She won't be trained. She won't have to."

"Bruce…"

"This is not open to debate. My child will never be out in the streets, risking her life. That's the whole point of what I do, to make the world safer so that our children…"

"Bruce!" She interrupted him. He lowered his glance to look at her, a worried expression in his face – Selina, however, just smiled. "Not tonight, okay?"

He took a moment before finally answering:

"Okay", he somberly agreed, "not tonight."

Privately, he concluded the phrase in his mind:

"_Not ever."_


	8. Chapter 8

"I hate the sewers", Selina said once again.

"You could do a lot worse than Gotham sewers, Catwoman."

"Oh, yeah, _Batman_? How?"

He smiled, though concealing it from his wife; easy to do: he was walking ahead of her in the darkness of Gotham's pluvial galleries, night vision goggles helping them move through the unpleasant corridors. They had been there for less than an hour, and Selina had complained about the place at least a dozen times.

Not that she was wrong in her observations – it was a dark, wet, cold and fetid place. They walked with rancid water to their knees, and the presence of cockroaches and rats was unequivocal. It was actually pretty difficult to imagine a worse place to be, but he could be creative:

"You've obviously never been to Kahndaq sewers", he observed.

"Have _you_, Mr. Smarty-pants?" She groaned in disapproval. "Is Kahndaq a desert? How do they have sewers in the desert…?"

"They do", he gravely declared. "And yes, I have been… long ago."

"Is it less wet? It has to be, it's a damn dese…"

"Hush", he abruptly told her, a hand move to sign to her that she should halt.

"_What_?"

She was whispering near his ear, standing right next to him.

"There", he answered in the same way, quietly placing a gloved hand under her chin and gently moving her face towards the thing that had caught his attention: a leather jacket that was partially under water, barely discernible in the deep darkness they were in.

She nodded, then asking:

"Is that his?"

She referred to the man they were looking for, of course. One of five bank robbers, and the remaining member of the gang that had managed to escape the crime scene before Batman and Catwoman could catch him. A young man, he seemed to be, carrying a gun and running like a cheetah. He had taken advantage of his companions' bad luck, all caught by Batman and Catwoman so easily and quickly.

"I think so", Batman agreed, taking a few wary steps and grabbing the jacket. He briefly raised his goggles to the top of his masked forehead, then using a flashlight to help him exam the garment.

"Is that blood?"

Catwoman was pointing to the large smudge that covered the back of the jacket, crossed by ripped fabric that suggested some sort of violent cut had ruined the coat.

"Yes", he answered her. It looked like blood, and he had no doubt it was. The question was: what could have cut through leather with such violence, to the point that the jacked was now useless?

"Shall we proceed?" Her question was followed by a playful smile. "I'm guessing our mission changed its status from 'find and arrest' to 'locate and rescue', don't you?"

He didn't answer her: she was right, and they both knew it.

"What could have ripped through his jacket like this?" Again they walked, Batman a couple feet ahead of Catwoman, who now held the man's jacket and carefully examined it. "This is not a clean-cut, I tell you. Either made by a crude blade or one very large animal…"

"Large indeed", he agreed with his wife. "And living in Gotham sewers? It sounds unlikely."

"How can you say that? Haven't we dealt with dozens of unlikely things all these years? Starting with a super powerful alien that fell from the skies and…"

She stopped mid-sentence, probably because she had seen the same he did: a wall just a few feet ahead that was covered in blood, violent splatters showing a strange pattern that denounced brutality and hinted pain.

"What the hell…?" Selina muttered.

Batman approached the wall, studying the blood that spread over the dark, moldy bricks.

"Still fresh", he said. "This must have happened just a few minutes ago."

"Oh, no…"

He turned to look at her, wondering what could have caused her to speak in such a dejected tone.

"Look at this." She was pointing at something floating on the water: a severed hand, crudely cut off, a clear section of bone showing from the torn flesh. "I guess we know why all the blood."

"Yes", he agreed. He was also thinking that the man they were looking for was probably already dead.

"What are we dealing with, Bruce…?" She was so distracted by that hand that she hadn't even noticed how she had spoken his real name instead of his alias.

"I don't know."

"This kid… he's not alive anymore, is he?"

"I don't think so." He took one of his large, sharp batarangues from his belt, arming himself with it. "Let's go", he urged, though not without first whispering to his wife. "Be careful."

"I'm _always_ careful, darling."

"Right."

They walked in silence for another five minutes or so, making their best to disguise the sounds of their steps. Batman walked ahead, his night vision goggles also giving him readings on body heat of the critters that often crossed their way. Behind him, Selina was quiet and, for once, seemed to be taking seriously his request for cautiousness. In a slow pace they advanced, Batman scanning carefully every inch of gallery, Catwoman attentively following his lead as he communicated in hand gestures any unusual findings.

Soon they had arrived at a larger chamber, that had three different passages for them to choose. Batman kneeled close to the arc passage they had come from, meticulously investigating the place before they entered it. As he did, one thing was clearly noticeable: the wrecked body of the man they had followed there, resting in a floating pool of dark blood in one of the corners of the chamber.

"Dear God…"

It was Selina speaking, her voice a soft, horrified sound as she removed her goggles and looked at the mess of flesh and broken bones that had once been a human being. She was right to be shocked: that thing was barely recognized as a person. There were missing limbs, a crushed skull, several places in the body were torn like pieces of his flesh had been ripped off by bites. He also seemed to have been eviscerated, a disgusting mass of internal organs and blood pouring out of his torn belly like it had exploded in a sudden burst. It was, without doubt, one of the most brutal sights Batman had ever laid eyes on.

"Catwoman", he gravely said, standing up and positioning himself in a combat position, "stay close to me and prepare to retreat. Whatever did this to this man, we are not prepared to deal with it right now. I think we need to get proper equipment and return…"

"Did you feel that?"

She was back to back with him, her whip in hands.

"Feel what?" His heart skip a beat: he thought he had seen movement under water. But that was impossible; his goggles showed no heat signature other than Selina's and his own.

All happened so fast.

In years to come, he would remember that moment. He would revive it, and see it again and again in his head. He would feel guilty and mentally punish himself for his naïveté, for his stupidity. He would curse his inexperience, that had caused him to make a mistake:

He never considered the creature that was there, in the sewers with them, had no heat signature. Of course he didn't. He was under water, and he was closer to reptile than human; his temperature was too low to be caught by the goggles before…

Before it was already too late.

Selina's scream wasn't loud, or terrified, or denounced pain. If anything, it was brief and caused, in essence, merely by surprise. A shout in darkness, and her slender silhouette disappeared before his eyes as she was pulled down and vanished under the shallow water that barely reached Batman's knees.

"Catwoman!"

He leaped forward, trying to grasp her hands as they entered the dark water, his fingers closing around nothing but air. But he saw it, her body, dragged down and pulled to the large chamber, her arms and legs struggling as much as she could, and a larger, much larger form dragging her away from her husband.

"Let her go!" He screamed in vain, his own voice a husky, unpleasant sound that reverberated through miles and miles of brick walls in the sewers. The thing wouldn't stop. Selina couldn't free herself. What's point in shouting like a fool?

He had only a slight, wild chance. He barely thought about, his trained mind and body doing the work the most rational part of his brain couldn't. His grappling hook gun in his hand, aiming, aiming at what he _assumed_ was the larger form and not Selina, that thing that moved quickly and erratically. There was barely a chance. If he was to think about it, he would certainly hesitate; he would certainly _miss_.

He shot.

There was an agonizing howl, a strange, unsettling sound. Could it be Selina? For moment his brain didn't register it, his mind refusing to accept that he could have hit her. And then, as he saw her fighting the scaly arm around her waist, his hook buried in the dark, flaky skin of the monstrous creature that now rose above water, he understood that, somehow, he had hit his target.

He pulled the cable. The thing screamed once again, his strange, not quite human voice echoing around them as the hook that pierced his large flank painfully forced him towards Batman. The monster – he was easily over seven feet tall, a bulky humanoid thing that was covered in a rough, scaled skin – groaned and resisted, his features a reptile mockery of a human face, barely a recognizable nose, no hair, a disproportional mouth that had no teeth, but _fangs_. Catwoman was still trapped by his heavy arms, kicking him with just one leg. The other, the left one, was covered in blood; three deep slashes, no doubt caused by the creature's claws, had torn flesh and muscle from her thigh to her calf, an irregular trail of destruction and pain.

The monster was incredibly strong: even as he still held Selina, he used one of his arms to grab the steel cable attached to the hook, violently pulling it and almost managing to take it off Batman's hands. He growled and snarled, a vicious, long tongue stretching out of his hideous mouth as he showed Batman all his fangs. And, to Bruce's surprise, the creature produced a guttural, husky voice that managed to shape a few discernible words:

"I… _kill…_ her…! Gut! Gut… your… woman…!"

Batman didn't answer that unsettling menace, but Selina, her own claws shredding the hard skin of the strong arm that held her, yelled:

"The hell… you… will!"

She jerked her body in an impressive demonstration of her gymnastic skills, twisting her good leg and managing to hit a startlingly strong kick right at the monster's jaw. That was unexpected and no doubt painful, ripping another howl of pain from the crocodile-like thing; and Batman, aware that Catwoman had inadvertently discovered a weak point for him to take advantage of, didn't waste time: just as he again pulled the cable attached to the creature, he also threw one of his heavy batarangues directly at the monster's face, hitting him on his mandible.

The creatures roared, nevertheless losing his balance and falling back on the water in a loud splash. It was his chance, Batman knew: he covered the fifty feet that separated him from the monster in seconds, reaching him just as he rose again from the water, now in all fours. It was a bizarre sight, that mix of man and reptile, a gigantic crocodile-man that now revealed angered yellow eyes, staring at Batman in wild rage.

Bruce knew he should be more careful, pay attention to his adversary and nothing else, but he couldn't: just as he realized the monster was preparing to attack him, he also couldn't help but look around, in search for Selina. And there she was, dragging her wounded body to the closest wall, clawing the bricks to place herself in her feet again – if that was even possible for her now.

She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

The creature attacked him, as predicted. His massive body striking ahead, the monster showing no concerns for protecting against counter-attacks, showing no techniques in his blows. He was much like a savage animal, claws searching for Batman's chest and neck, his large, long arms always stretched to its limits as he stroke. He roared, and he punched, and leaped forward to try to grab Batman's body.

"I kill you…! _Kill… you…_ little man!"

The creature was heavy and massive, covered in thick skin that was hard to break, Batman found out. Three darts with paralysis toxins had no effect; batarangues hurt as they hit the monster, but left not even a scratch on his hide. Kidneys, stomach, chest, legs – the creature barely felt those blows. Like a wild beast the creature fought, tumbling and standing again, groaning, screaming in madness.

"Croc… _kill you_! Croc crushes… you…"

_Croc_. So that was how the monster called himself. Croc. Appropriate.

Batman watched as the creature called Croc prepared for another strike, walking around him as predators often do to their cornered preys. Strong arms and legs the monster had, a short neck, his head too small for such a large body. A wide mouth, no visible lips, his jaw bones too perceptible under what seemed to be a more sensitive, less protected portion of skin – no wonder Croc had felt Selina's kick, just as the batarangue Batman had thrown at his chin. That was the spot to strike, and Batman knew he had to take advantage of that.

The creature moved. A sudden, quick strike of that massive body, his right hand searching for Batman's neck. _Can't dodge_, Batman rationalized. No doubt Croc's strikes were usually too slow for him, and he could avoid them without trouble, but he couldn't be wasting any time. Not anymore. He had Selina to think about, and she was bleeding to death.

Batman moved backwards only enough for the sharp claws to miss his neck, then grabbing the creature's arm and ducking, feeling Croc's left hand grasping his back, the acute pain of his body armor being pierced and nails strong as steel tearing his skin and crushing his ribs. No matter: the monster was where he wanted him.

Croc's head was right above him, and Batman used his head to hit the monster's jaw from bellow, his armored and resistant helmet cracking at contact, Croc yelling in agony as his mandible, clearly broken, crooked in a strange way. Blood ran, the long and feral tongue severed, sharp teeth broken and loosen, the creature holding his face in despair.

That was the opportunity Batman needed. It was his turn to jump over his opponent, dropping him on the water and hitting him again and again in his already damaged face. Red tainted the filthy water, and Batman took from his belt not one, but three syringes of sedatives, piercing Croc on the softer skin of his face.

Now the drugs were effective: the monster jerked and rolled over himself, trying to stand up… and couldn't. He managed to get to his knees, eyes blanking, his voice a drowsy sound:

"Kill… ki…ll… kkk…"

He dropped head first in the water, undoubtedly unconscious. And as he did, he ceased to be Batman's concern:

"Selina!"

In large steps through the water Batman reached her, Catwoman standing against the wall with her eyes closed and hands pressed against her abdomen.

"Let me see", he immediately asked, noticing the blood that poured through her clasped fingers.

"I'm okay", she mumbled, her lips trembling persistently.

He kneeled close to her, his eyes leveled with her wounded stomach. Gently, he placed his hands around her wrists, pulling them from her lower belly.

"It's… not… that bad", Selina said, though she wasn't even looking at it.

"You're gonna be fine", he said, trying to keep his voice steady. Right now, he was staring at two deep wounds in his wife lower abdomen, from where blood freely ran. In all honesty, he was very worried.

Standing up again, he took her in his arms to carry her, something Selina didn't accept so easily.

"Oh, no… no… I… can…"

"Be quiet", he gravely told her. "Don't waste energy."

She didn't argue – yet another sign that things were not well. Instead, her face buried on the curve of his neck, she whispered:

"Silly… you can't… won't get… rid of me… easily."

"Don't talk", he insisted.

"Bossy… always so… bossy."

He chuckled. Yes, he _was_ bossy. As usual, even in a rotten situation like that, Selina was right.

_Please_, he silently begged, _please_, _don't let her die._

He was now finally realizing that, even for Batman, there were sacrifices he wasn't willing to make.


	9. Chapter 9

Selina opened her eyes to find herself in a strange room and on a strange bed, with Bruce sat in a chair next to her.

"Don't try to stand", he said. "You're still weak."

"Wasn't… going to."

There was no way she could, Selina reasoned. Her body ached all over, her left leg burned, her head spun. Things that matched well with the last memory she had: Bruce carrying her out of the sewers, after a giant crocodile-man attacked her.

"Where…?"

"Gotham General", he quickly answered. "We had to bring you. Your wounds were… serious."

"More than… a few scratches."

"Yeah", he agreed. "More than that."

She rested her head on the pillow behind her, eyes closed. No matter she had just woken up: she was tired as hell. Still, she knew her husband well – his tone showed he was obviously tense, and that could mean only one thing: he had bad news to tell her. And she _hated_ to wait for bad news.

"Helena", she said, bringing up the topic that was her greatest concern. It was unlikely that something was wrong with their daughter, but she had to make sure.

"She's fine", Bruce told her, his voice softening at the mention of their child. "She misses you, that's all."

"I want to… see her."

"I'll bring her over this afternoon."

Again opening her eyes, she turned to look at him, noticing his cheerless gaze.

"Tell me."

He pressed his lips tight together.

"C'mon, Bruce…" She insisted. "You're scaring me."

At those words, he approached the bed, seating close to her and holding her hand.

"No. I didn't mean to… scare you. I just don't want to…"

"Upset me?"

He nodded in agreement.

"I'm a big girl."

A sad smile was his response. "You are", he agreed.

Selina, however, frowned. She wasn't joking about getting scared by the fact that his husband was being more elusive than usual, something she had always, and would always hate.

"It's my leg… isn't it?" She bluntly asked. Her leg was a mess. All she could remember were those claws ripping through her uniform and then burying deep in her flesh, the pain that followed it, the blood. Her skin shredded, muscles torn… it wasn't a pleasant sight, to say the least.

"No", he answered, frustrating Selina's expectations. "Your leg will be fine. You'll have to go through physiotherapy, perhaps another surgery… but they saved it."

"Then what…?"

"The wound in your abdomen", he declared, now assuming a straightforward tone. "They did the best they could, but you were bleeding too much, and there was the risk of infection…"

"Bruce", she interrupted him with impatience. "What… what are you talking about…?"

He drew a good breath in before answering her, eyes on the window ahead as he seemed unable to look directly at her.

"They had to remove your uterus."

Her uterus. Her _uterus_? For a moment those words didn't register in her mind, a complete lack of meaning in what he said. She had _lost_ it… Lost. They had to _remove_ it…

"_Oh"_, she thought, "_I'll never be able to… to have another child_."

Not that she was planning to; Helena was so young still, and one child had already changed things so much… Not to mention, their lives were already so complicated. Selina had always thought they would be that kind of family, one kid and that was it – a single, special child to spoil rotten, that was what she had assumed. But, yeah, she never thought that being a parent would be so fulfilling and wonderful and, above all, she never imagined Bruce would be such a great, caring father. Batman or no Batman, he was the kind of parent that should have a bunch of kids, a dozen of them. It was hard to admit, but his love for Helena was the purest, most honest thing she had ever seen coming from him. There were no setbacks there, no hesitation, not a hint of doubt. Bruce loved that little girl, so much that Selina often had to remind him that his job as a father sometimes involved saying a few "nos" and not getting Helena everything she wanted, when she wanted.

Selina knew another kid would do them some good. Helena would have to learn about sharing, as would they. But it would also be complicated: she didn't feel so sure about leaving her Catwoman life yet again for another couple years or so, leaving Bruce again alone with the responsibility of protecting Gotham and the world. Sure, he had _help_: Clark and Diana were probably the most competent and skilled heroic companions one could wish for, but it wasn't the same. When it came to Gotham's streets, the everyday job… It was up to Bruce and her. And she hated, just _hated_ the idea of not being able to help him.

Besides, she knew how _he_ felt. It had taken a while for him to get used again with her presence next to him while fighting crime - he was always so worried about her, so concerned about her safety, so uneasy when they faced a dangerous situation. And not without reason: Selina secretly admitted it had taken a while for her to get the hang of it again, and she feared that, with a second pregnancy, it would be even harder to go back to her previous state. Not to mention, that would be _two_ little kids left behind, one of them a baby that needed his or her mom… leave a child behind, especially knowing that you might not be back the next morning, that was a feeling that she wasn't anxious to experience in double.

Still, there weren't many other things in the world that were better than seeing her husband overjoyed while holding their new baby, or kissing their child goodnight as he smiled in honest happiness. She too longed for that: an infant in her arms, a toddler smiling, a baby moving inside her. And when Bruce whispered in early mornings by her ear, telling her that they should _try again_, that they were _ready_, she would smile and deny, telling him it was too soon… but she would wonder. She would think that maybe in a year, maybe in six months… maybe.

But, now, for sure, that would never happen.

"I'm so sorry, Selina", Bruce was telling her, holding her hand and kissing it lightly. "I'm so sorry…"

Maybe she shouldn't be sorry, Selina pondered. Now, at least, there was no reason to wonder. No more doubts, just _facts_. One simple fact: she _couldn't_ conceive anymore. She was unable to, she would never… never again…

"Selina", Bruce called, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine…", she said dismissing his concern. He shouldn't be concerned. She was fine. Fine.

"Are you sure?" He caressed her cheek, his fingers gently running over her skin. "It's a lot to process…"

She didn't answer. Yes, it was a lot to process, he was right. But it wasn't the end of the world, right? She couldn't have kids – well, she already had one. A great kid, a beautiful little girl, and it wasn't like they planned on more babies… they had toyed with the idea, imagined it as a possibility… but they were far from actually doing it. They probably never would have. Right?

Then why did she feel so bad?

Why did she feel sad?

Why did she feel tears burning in her eyes?

Why did that had to happen to her? To them…?

Why…?

Sobs came. Tears. Cry. It came, and it remained there, a flow of tears and her body shaking to the point of pain, pain in her wounded belly, the stitches and cuts making her acutely aware of where it hurt, _what_ had been lost. Bruce next to her, his arms then around her, his kisses over her wet face, the words tumbling out of her mouth, _I'm sorry_, she would say, _I'm so sorry_, like it was her fault. Like it was her fault that she had gotten hurt, that she couldn't be a mother again, that yet another one of her dreams, her silly dreams, was now gone.


End file.
